The Shop on Main(7)
She sighed. “Yes, I do. It never hurts to end your day with pie.”
~ * ~
Owen parked in front of the Sweet Tea Bed and Breakfast, noting the immaculately groomed front yard and the wide front porch on the old Victorian-ish house. Lights from inside spilled out on the porch, illuminating wooden rockers. As he climbed the stairs to the porch he saw a wide swing at the far end. The quintessential Southern front porch.
Jake hadn’t offered to let Owen stay with him, not that Owen would have accepted. He figured Jake still needed his space and time to process everything. Heck, Owen needed time to process everything. He had a brother. It still was all so new.
Before he could decide whether a person knocked at the front door of a bed-and-breakfast—he’d never stayed at one—he was met at the front door by the owners
“I’m Rebecca, and this is Larry.”
A couple in their fifties, he’d guess, stood in the entryway.
“You must be Mr. Campbell.”
“Please, call me Owen.”
“Owen it is.” Larry stepped forward. “May I take your bag for you?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to register with Rebecca then. She wants me to run to the market for eggs. Needs more of them for breakfast.” Larry slid past him and out the door.
Owen looked around the bed and breakfast. A front room with a fireplace was decorated with a mix of comfortable furniture and a few antique pieces. Lamps were scattered around the room, making it bright even after darkness had fallen outside. It was an inviting and cheerful room that implied a person should come in and get comfortable.
“Here. Let’s get you registered.”
He followed Rebecca over to an old wooden counter near the entryway. He appreciated the fact that the inn had an online registration system in place. So many smaller businesses hadn’t set up this step, which he considered important in this day. He’d hopped online to get directions from the website, but once he’d reached Main Street, it was hard to miss any business on the street. He was staying at least a few days and he hoped to have lots of time to get to know Jake. His brother had agreed to meet him tomorrow for dinner. It was a start at least. Jake didn’t trust him, that much was obvious. Not that Owen blamed him. Their father had pretended that Jake didn’t exist, so there wasn’t much to build upon.
“I made up the green room for you. It’s on the front of the house, but you won’t find it noisy. We have two other rooms occupied right now. I put coffee on at six. You’re free to come down and grab some before breakfast.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be up early. I have a busy day tomorrow.” He’d scheduled an online video conference for the morning, and his team was sending him a report he’d requested that he wanted to go over in the afternoon.
Rebecca smiled at him. “Well, follow me, and I’ll show you to your room.”
He followed the woman up the stairs and down the hallway to the end. She opened the door and stood aside for him to enter. He could see why it was named The Green Room. The walls were the palest shade of green. The room had some splashes of green in the decorating, but nothing overwhelming. A four poster bed filled just enough of the room, leaving quite a bit of space to walk around. An antique dresser was against one wall. An overstuffed chair was in front of the window with a small table and lamp next to it. A small writing desk was against the wall, a perfect work area for him.
“You’ve done a great job with your B&B. The downstairs is well done, and this room is perfect.” He hoped he didn’t sound like he was reciting the plus points of the establishment. He couldn’t help himself. He was always mentally checking off what small businesses did well or did poorly.
“Thank you.” Rebecca blushed with pride. “Besides enjoying running the B&B, I do love to decorate it. I’m always changing something. My Larry says he gets tired of moving things around for me and rolls his eyes when I come home with something new, but he doesn’t really mind.”
“You’ve done a great job.” He’d been a bit unsure of staying in a bed-and-breakfast while he was in town. He was used to anonymity, just a person in a room, in a hotel. But if he wanted to stay in Comfort Crossing, he had no choice but to find a small motel or bed-and-breakfast for his stay. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, this is fine.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Yes, I’ll see you then.” Owen closed the door behind the woman and placed his suitcase on the luggage rack. He opened the suitcase and hung up his clothes so they wouldn’t get any more wrinkled than they had during the trip here. He took his travel kit to the bathroom. The bathroom had cream walls and dark green plush towels. It was a small bathroom, but not tiny. A shower and bath combination at one end and a sink with just the right amount of counter space against the wall. Nicely done.